


Time Lord Physics Were Inwented in Russia

by LylaRivers



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LylaRivers/pseuds/LylaRivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise goes to deliver humanitarian relief to a planet pulled from orbit.  They get a little surprise.<br/>Otherwise known as: Spock in ice skates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Lord Physics Were Inwented in Russia

**Author's Note:**

> I blame SherlockedTrekkie entirely for this fic- we'd gone ice skating over the summer, and started talking about what would happen if the crew of the Enterprise (or some fraction of them) had to ice skate around on a planet. This is the result, from my early (ish??) days of writing. There may be some issues with it, since it's been largely untouched for two years, but hopefully it's still mostly ok.  
> Enjoy!

"Alright Scotty, energize!" the Captain says. I stare directly ahead, mentally preparing myself for the mission ahead. Carefully, I readjust all six of my extra layers. Since Hoth was pulled out of its orbit, it has slowly frozen over. My Vulcan physiology means I have a low tolerance for the cold. Even if it means I have to endure the taunts of my Captain.

"Got enough layers there Spock?" Jim Kirk taunts. "Sure you'll be warm enough down there?"

"Vulcans are far more used to warmer climates, Captain," I say, trying to remain impervious to his 'good natured' teasing. "Perhaps you should wear a few more layers yourself. The planet has completely frozen over."

"If you say so Spock," he says with a bit of a smirk. It’s that specific smirk that makes me want to wipe the self-satisfied look off his face. Most illogical of course. But it doesn't stop the urge. More than trying to remain impervious to his teasing, I am attempting to remain impervious to everything else that's going on.

"Are you two ready or not?" Scotty asks.

"Keptin! Keptin! You forgot ze ice skates!" Chekov says, racing into the transporter room. "It's ze only way to get around ze planet!"

"Ice skating?" I murmur to Jim, raising my eyebrows.

"Guess not," Scotty says irritatedly.

Chekov is holding not two but three pairs of metal blades. "I thought.... I might come with you Keptin. I mean... ice skating was inwented in Russia!"

I strongly resist the urge to roll my eyes. Chekov is always claiming things were invented in Russia, regardless of the truth. I open my mouth to correct him, when Jim shakes his head at me.

"Of course you can come Chekov. The more the merrier, after all. But, as my good First Officer so kindly pointed out earlier, it is quite cold out there."

"I'll be fine, Keptin. I'm Russian!"

"Chekov. Put on a heavy jacket. That's an order," Jim says.

"Yes, Keptin," Chekov shouts, running out of the transporter room. He drops the skates, and goes to find suitable winter clothes.

Kirk grabs a pair of skates and tosses them at me. "Come on Spock, put these on. Assuming, of course, you can move in all of those layers!" Then he pulls on his own skates with enviable ease.

I sit down, and try to figure out how to attach the metal to my boots. I find I have very little success.

Jim fixes me with that infuriating smirk. "Here, let me give you a hand," he says. In short order, he has the skates strapped on properly. "See? Not so hard after all!"

"If you say so, Captain," I reply, keeping my tone even. I refuse to allow the emotions rushing through my head at top speed to show on my face. 'Emotions are illogical' I chant to myself in my head.

"I thought I told you to call me Jim, Spock," Jim says. I decidedly do not tell him that is how I think of him in the privacy of my own mind.

"Yes you did, Captai- Jim," I say, correcting myself mid sentence. "You have informed me of this fact exactly 27 times in the past two months alone." I try very hard to ignore the self-satisfied smirk that crosses his face. I also try not to concentrate on the fact that we seem to be having a very personal conversation in front of Mr. Scott and all the other transporter personnel. I also happen to notice the engineer is smirking.

These thoughts are thankfully interrupted by Chekov running back into the transporter room at breakneck speed.

"I'm back, Keptin!" he shouts, breathing heavily.

"Relax, Chekov. We won't leave without you," Jim says with a little chuckle. "Sit down and put those skates on. Mr. Scott, how's the interference going to affect the transporter?"

"There's really no telling, Captain," Scotty says with a frown. Meanwhile, Chekov is in his skates exactly 25 seconds faster than the time it took Jim to pull his on. I suppress further irritation at the illogic of the flimsy pieces of metal. The laws of physics are not in our favor, balancing precariously on such a small surface area, as I have been forced to do.

"Ready, Keptin!" Chekov announces.

Jim glances at me, as if to ask 'Ready?' I give him a slight nod - just 3 centimeters. "Alright Scotty. Energize!" Jim orders.

"Aye, sir," Scotty says. I feel the familiar tingle of the transporter as we glow, disappear from the Enterprise, and materialize on the planet’s surface.

***

I'm hit by a sudden blast of icy cold. The wind unbalances my already precarious position on the ice, and I wobble. Jim grabs my arm, keeping me propped up.

"Steady, Spock! Don't want you to wipe out in the first ten seconds on the planet!" He asks, eyes full of challenge.

I refuse to dignify this statement with a response. "Where are we, Captain?" I ask.

"It's Jim," he replies absently. "And I'm not quite sure." He pulls out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise." The static crackles.

"Enterprise, Uhura here."

"Good. Uhura. Can you get a fix on where we are?"

There are 5.4 minutes of static, in which I'm sure Nyota is checking her instruments. I try hard not to think about her - and fail miserably.

"Sorry Captain. There is too much interference from the ice storm. You're lucky Scotty was even able to beam you down," she replies eventually.

Ice storm? Lucky? Not necessarily two words I'd expect to hear together.

"Alright then. Thanks anyway. We'd best find some form of shelter before Spock freezes over," Jim jokes. Oddly, he doesn't look too disappointed. He holds out the communicator to me, a look of question in his eyes. 'Want to talk to her'? he mouths. I shake my head. There is no need for the Captain to know we broke up recently - or why she ended it.

"Sorry, Captain. Uhura out." She doesn't sound remotely sorry.

Jim closes the communicator. "You two fighting again?"

"Not exactly," I respond carefully. The wind howls around the three of us. I can feel the cold seeping into my bones.

"Not exactly ideal conditions to teach you to skate, Spock," Jim says. "Come on." He grabs a hold of my arm.

I wrench my arm free. "I will be fine, Captain." I say.

"It's Jim," he replies. He frowns, and starts to skate off. Chekov follows. I analyze their movements, and attempt to mimic them. Both Jim and Chekov are irritatingly good at this. I barely get 3 feet when I fall over with a large crash and a yell of frustration.

"SPOCK!" Jim shouts, turning around. He sees me lying on the ice, and skates over. He comes to an abrupt stop right in front of me, showering me with ice shards. "Oh. Sorry. Come on!" He grabs both my arms, braces himself, and yanks me up.

I shiver violently. The cold is beginning to affect my mind. "Help... me... Jim," I whisper, teeth chattering.

"Never thought I'd hear you'd say that," Jim exclaims. Then he really looks at me. "We need to get you to some sort of shelter. You'll be warmer once you get moving." He grabs my hand gently, and starts to pull me along with him. "Bend your knees slightly - yes like that." Jim skates faster. "CHEKOV!" he hollers.

"KEPTIN?!" Chekov hollers back.

"HELP ME PULL SPOCK ALONG!" Jim shouts.

Chekov spins around and skates back. He performs another of those annoying skate stops, showering me with ice. He grabs a hold of my arm, and pulls. Shockingly, I do start to feel a bit warmer once we pick up speed. The wind is fierce, but the motion helps retain body heat. The hand Jim is holding feels warmest of all - despite the fact we both wear gloves. I find myself wondering if he understands the full significance of 'holding hands' with a Vulcan. Either he does and doesn't care, or he's clueless. I'm not sure which option is preferable.

Slowly, my legs find the rhythm of skating. Instead of being dragged around like so much dead weight, I begin to hold my own.

"You can let go now!" I shout. "I appreciate your assistance." Chekov breaks free immediately, and falls behind us. Jim glances at me.

"Sure?" he asks, visibly worried.

"I'm fine Capt- I mean Jim."

"Would you have been happier staying on the ship?"

"You know you needed the extra help in deciding exactly what kind of aid is necessary. Besides, I need to take a number of readings and measurements," I reply. "It was only logical." I don't add the alternative - brooding around the ship.

"Logical for you to freeze?"

I don't respond to that. It was logical on many levels, and we both know it. Jim gently lets go of my hand, and skates slightly forward. I wobble a bit, but I'm definately mobile. Stopping will be a different story.

"HEY CHEKOV! RACE YOU TO THE END OF THE BEND UP THERE!" Jim yells.

"I CAN DO ZAT, KEPTIN!" Chekov shouts back. He skids around me to race.

"Ready? GO!" Jim shouts. The two of them tear off down the frozen stretch. I continue along at my same steady pace. I'm far more focused on my feet than where I'm going when I hear a loud 'vwoorp vwoorp' and I collide with something very solid. "CAPTAIN!" I yell as I collapse.

***

My eyes open to a very concerned Captain leaning over me.

"What... did I... hit?" I ask.

"Whatever this is, it wasn't here when Chekov and I were racing. It's this blue box. I've never seen the likes of it before."

I try to sit up, puzzling over the significance. Jim lays an arm on my shoulder, forcing me to lie flat. "Sorry, Spock. Gotta make sure you didn't hit your head too hard."

"I am fine, Captain," I reply.

"You've been saying that a lot - and I don't believe it for one second," Jim tells me.

"Where’s Chekov?" I ask, changing the subject.

Jim fixes me with a glare - he's caught on to my tactic, and doesn't like it one bit. "He's fine - just sitting over there."

There's a creak, and a man's voice drifts through. "Well River, here we are. Happy Birthday!"

"Doctor, shouldn't you be concerned about the loud thump we heard as you failed to properly land the TARDIS?" A woman's voice asks.

"Some thanks I get," the man says.

Jim shifts slowly into a crouch - a position that I can only assume is to attempt to protect his 'fallen comrade'. He eases his phaser out of his pocket, and shifts away from me.

The door opens, and a very strangely dressed man steps out. He seems unaffected by the cold, despite only wearing a tweed suit jacket. "RIVER! I appear to have hit someone!" he calls out.

Jim stands up abruptly. "Who are you?" he asks, pointing the phaser at the man. "Why have you crashed your... box into my First Officer?" Out of the corner of my eye, I see Chekov stand up and pull out his own phaser, ready to back up the Captain.

"So sorry about that. A bit of a misunderstanding, and all. I'm the Doctor, by the way."

"Your actual name, please," Jim says testily.

"I told you. My name is the Doctor."

"Doctor Who?" I ask.

The man - the Doctor? - laughs. "If I got money for every time I heard that! It's just the Doctor. Also, so sorry about running you down."

The door opens, and a woman steps out. She looks a bit more dressed for the weather.

"It's a bit nippy. And you sure we're in the right... oh!" She looks thoroughly shocked. "Next time, look where you're parking! Maybe I should drive!"

The Doctor glares at her. "She is my TARDIS, and I am perfectly capable of driving her!" He turns back to Jim. "This is my... companion, River."

I get the feeling 'companion' is a bit of a loaded word here. At the same time, I feel another shudder of cold run through my body. "Jim." I whisper. "We need to get moving."

"Spock?" he whispers.

"Cold." I mutter. I can't articulate any more.

The Doctor has been watching our exchange closely. "Perhaps I can offer you shelter? It's the least I can do to offer an apology for running you over?"

I shiver again. Jim looks at me worriedly. "I think, on behalf of my Vulcan friend, I will have to accept for my two crewmates and myself." He motions Chekov over. "You know a place around here?"

"My ship," the Doctor sits, motioning to the box. 

"How will we all fit?" Jim asks, confused.

The Doctor smiles, and opens the door. "Watch them," Jim whispers to me as he turns around to help me up. "I don't trust them."

"Then why did you accept the offer? It seems most illogical," I ask.

"We have nowhere else to go, we're lost, and you're getting worse," he replies. He grabs my hands and pulls me up. I try with very little success to ignore the sensations rushing through my body - gloves or no gloves.

Chekov stalks over and stops in front of us abruptly, once again showering me with ice.

"Sorry, Commander," he says sheepishly. "Is everything alright, Keptin?”

"Just fine, Chekov. We're going to be taking shelter with this.... Doctor," Jim says.

I open my mouth to say something - but am instead wracked by another severe set of shivers. It doesn't go unnoticed by Jim.

"Come on Spock, let's get you inside - whatever this is," he says.

The Doctor opens the door. "Welcome to my home sweet home!" he says with an excited, boyish grin. Jim pushes me in first. My brain goes into shock from what I see.

"Captain? Jim...... look!" I say. I can't even articulate properly the sight before my eyes.

Jim follows me in, and his jaw drops, standing on the threshold of the room inside. "It's...... it's...... it's bigger on the inside!" he stutters.

"Is somezing wrong?" Chekov asks. Jim pushes me farther inside so Chekov can join us. "Why... zis kind of technology was inwented in Russia!" he exclaims.

Jim exchanges a glance with me. I can tell how hard he's trying to laugh. "But... this is impossible!" I say. "The Law of Conservation of Mass doesn't allow for such an anomaly."

"It's Time Lord technology," the Doctor says from behind us. "You can put a whole other dimension in a relatively small space."

"But it ignores the laws of physics!" I protest, unable to stop myself.

"Time Lords practically invented physics," the Doctor replies.

"Time Lords?" I ask.

"My... people. They inhabited the planet Gallifrey." The Doctor looks uncomfortable discussing this. I also note he talks about 'his people' in the past tense.

"Inhabited, Doctor? Do they not still inhabit Gallifrey?"

"Ah... actually, no. They do not," the Doctor says. "Bit of a long story, actually. But! Who are you three, and what brings you here?"

Jim fixes the Doctor with a glare I identify as his 'this conversation is not over' look. Still, he allows the shift away from the topic. Chekov and I keep silent, unsure of how much information our Captain is prepared to give out to these strangers.

"We are crew of the Federation Starship Enterprise. We're supposed to be here on a relief and data gathering mission, but we were beamed down in the wrong area, due to interference in the atmosphere," Jim says.

"Relief mission?" River asks.

I glance at Jim for permission. He nods absently, letting me take the metaphorical floor of the conversation.

"Hoth was knocked out of its regular orbit exactly 6.2 standard months ago. Since that time, the planet's tropical climate has slowly frozen over, leaving this seemingly desolate wasteland. The indigenous peoples are far more suited to the warmer climate, and our mission is to determine what steps need to be taken to give them aid."

"How was it knocked out of orbit?" River asks curiously.

"There was a severe meteor shower," I reply. "Several of the larger meteors made planetfall, around the same time. These meteors had enough mass to significantly change Hoth's orbit."

The Doctor seems to be considering all this information. "What if there was a way to pull the planet back into orbit by those few degrees?" he asks. "Might that fix the problem?"

"It might...." I allow. "But the Federation has not yet developed that kind of technology. It is far beyond our grasp for the current time."

"Hmmm..." the Doctor says.

"So. Why are you here?" Jim asks.

"Ah... well... actually. It's a bit of an accident. I was taking River skating for her birthday, but we seem to have gotten just a bit lost."

"How do you mean, lost?" Chekov asks. It's the first thing he's said since claiming the technology to make a room bigger on the inside was invented in Russia.

The Doctor squirms a bit. "The TARDIS... malfunctioned a bit. See, this ship can travel anywhere through space and time - wherever, whenever. But... she's a bit of an older, outdated model." He pats the console. "No offense, old girl. But I don't always get where I intend. Just where she thinks I need to be."

"What is this ‘TARDIS?’" Chekov asks.

"This! This ship you're in. TARDIS is an acronym: Time and Relative Dimensions in Space," River replies.

"What does it do?" Jim asks. He has that 'I'm not impressed' look on, despite the fact that just 7 minutes ago, he was marveling over the sheer size of the ship.

"I told you! It travels through time and space! A space ship and time machine all rolled into one!" the Doctor says. He looks offended, as if Jim has insulted his ship.

"Don't screw around with us. It's not amusing," Jim says testily.

"What more do you want? A demonstration?" the Doctor asks.

"Yes!" Jim says. "Take us somewhere else, show us around, then bring us right back here!"

"No," I say. "Atmospheric interference, remember? That was why Uhura could not locate us, and we were beamed down to the wrong spot."

The Doctor shrugs. "Suit yourself. Anyways, feel free to wander around. If you go down that hallway, there are some bedrooms and such. Get warmed up so you can move on and save your planet." He holds his arm out to River. "We may as well skate a bit while we're here, though this was not the rink I was looking for."

River and the Doctor walk out of the TARDIS together. Jim pulls off his own skates, and then mine. "Let's get these layers off of you. They're absolutely soaked!" he says.

"I'm going to skate around and keep an eye on this Doctor, Keptin," Chekov says. Jim waves a hand at him absently, and he walks out.

Jim pulls off the top two layers. "Better?" he asks.

Warmth begins to find its way to my chill-wracked body. "Fine Capt- Jim."

"You know I don't believe you anymore when you say that, right?" Jim asks. He pulls off his own heavy jacket, scattering more clothes on the floor.

"You have mentioned this fact," I reply. I slowly pull off a few more layers. I sit down on the steps in the TARDIS, in only a wool-lined jacket over my blue Science Officer's shirt. It feels strangely vulnerable. It's not exactly a feeling I'm comfortable with. I shiver violently again.

Jim moves closer to me and suddenly I can't divorce myself from my emotions as well. "Come here you stubborn Vulcan," he says, wrapping his arms around me.

"What?" I mumble, my body stiffening.

"Body heat's the best way to warm up. So shut up and get warm." Jim says. He pulls off my gloves. "Clench and unclench your hands. It will warm them up faster."

Ever so slowly, I relax my body. Much as I would hate to admit it, Jim is quite right - I am starting to feel much warmer. However, this closeness is not doing well for my emotional control. I am unable to control this reaction I have. It is most illogical - I never had this problem with Nyota.

'Perhaps that was the problem' that small, human part of my mind whispers. I close my eyes, and try to dispel these thoughts. It doesn't work at all. I pull away a bit, and shake my head ever so slightly. I don't want Jim to have any inkling of my conflict.

Unfortunately, my Captain is highly perceptive - perhaps more than he is given credit for. He holds me at arms length. "Spock? Is everything alright? And don't try to tell me you're fine. I know you, alright? Give me an honest answer."

"I....." I'm stumbling. This is definitely bad. I have a sudden idea - a sort of double test. Part for me, and part for my Captain. "My... hands are still quite cold. I can not seem to get circulation running again," I say.

Gently, Jim grabs my hands in his. I freeze as strange sensations rush through my body. Does he have any idea?

Jim raises his eyes to meet mine. "What happened with Uhura?" he asks suddenly.

"Is this relevant?" I ask, confused.

"Do you really think I'm that ignorant, Spock? I know all about how sensitive Vulcan hands are." He stares me down.

Well. This changes things. "We... ah.... broke up - that is the human term?" I say.

"I'm sorry," Jim says, not letting go of my hands.

"Don't be," I whisper, unable to fully trust my voice.  Jim passed - he knows what is going on. I'm the one who's failing. But, if Jim knows what he's doing, why doesn't he stop?

"Why not?" Jim asks. I can't bring myself to answer. What do I tell him? That Nyota accused me of being half in love with him? That I might actually be? That she was sick of my seeming lack of emotion? And why does Jim want to know so badly?

"Spock. Why not?" Jim asks again. I look at him - really look at him. How do I tell him? What would happen if he rejected me? I don't even register that he's waiting for a response until he speaks again. "Spock. What's going on?" he asks. He gently lets go of my hands. "Is this bothering you?"

'NO! YES!' my mind screams. "Sorry," I whisper. I look away from him - I can't bear to look him in the eyes.

Jim grabs my chin, and turns my head back towards him. "Please tell me what's wrong," he whispers, matching my volume decibel for decibel.

"I do not think I can," I say. It's not even a lie.

"Try me." It's a challenge - a dare. Do I rise to it? Do I dare tell him? More importantly - do I dare not?

Very, very slowly, I touch my fingers to his in a Vulcan kiss. Then, I raise my eyes to meet his.

"Ah," Jim says. I try to jerk my arm away - what does that even mean? But, Jim traps my arm with his, holding it there.

"For the record, Spock? Uhura told me she was going to break up with you. And, she told me why." I stare at Jim, completely dumbfounded.

"She did?" I ask when I trust myself to speak again. My voice cracks slightly.

"She said she thought I should know. Also, and I quote, 'He's too stubborn to tell you himself'," Jim says. "She also mentioned you being too concerned with Starfleet regulations to do anything."

"She is not entirely wrong," I murmur. I hadn't actually immediately thought of Starfleet, to be honest. I pull away, stand up, and start to pick up the scattered jackets.

"Entirely wrong?" Jim asks.

"Not necessarily Starfleet - and certainly not just them."

"The Vulcans?" Jim asks.

Damn he's perceptive. I don't say anything, which is a confirmation in itself. I have a duty to help rebuild my race after Nero destroyed my planet. Yet another reason Nyota ended our relationship - she has very little interest in starting a family. In hindsight, the relationship seemed doomed from the start.

"If that's it?" Jim asks, standing up and walking over to me. "Those are your only reasons?

"They are all valid, important, logical reasons," I reply.

"And what would you say if I told you I really don't care? That I've been trying to distract myself from you since you first agreed to be my First Officer? I was sure I wouldn't have a chance - well.... since you and Uhura...," Jim trails off, uncertain.

"James Kirk, not have a chance?" I ask.

"As I said... you and Uhura... and... I have a reputation," he says, shrugging.

That statement speaks for itself. "So. What now?" I ask, changing the subject.

Jim frowns, thinking. "Right now? As in, this very second? Because trust me, I have some ideas."

"I was referring to the general future," I start to say, but instead, Jim's lips find mine.

"I know what you meant," he whispers, breaking away. "I just elected to ignore it."

I wrap my arms around him, enjoying his body heat. "In all honesty Jim. What do we do? I am no longer sure."

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around me. "I think that's a first. You always have ideas."

I don't have an answer for him. Before I can come up with one, I hear the door creak open. I pull apart from Jim, and go back to piling the jackets on the TARDIS seat. Jim looks confused until the door opens fully. Chekov stands there, framed in the doorway.

"What's going on, Chekov?" Jim asks, careful to hide the irritation from his voice. As tuned in as I am to his voice, though, I hear the irritation barely there.

"Just checking on Commander Spock, Keptin," Chekov says.

"I am feeling much better, thank you," I say, not turning around. I am definitely not fully in control of my emotions right now.

"What are the Doctor and River doing?" Jim asks.

"Just... skating around, Keptin," Chekov replies.

I think through the conversation with the Doctor to try to reel my scattered mind back in, when something occurs to me. "Ah... Captain? The Doctor mentioned trying to pull Hoth back into its orbit. I do not believe he would mention this possibility if it was not, in fact, possible."

"Wait. What?" Jim asks.

"He did say his people - the Time Lords - practically inwented physics," Chekov adds. "Which is a lie, since physics were first studied in Russia."

Jim lets out a little laugh. "Chekov, not everything was invented in Russia."

"If you say so, Keptin," Chekov says, staring at him in disbelief.

I start to pull on some layers. "Perhaps the logical thing to do is to ask the Doctor," I say.

Jim tugs the jacket I'm holding away from me. "You're not going anywhere! You only just got warm again - we can wait a little while for the Doctor to finish out there.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few - or the one," I say, pulling on the jacket.

"An hour or so is not going to make that much of a difference," Jim says. "Also. DO NOT try to pull that line on me again."

"What line?" I ask, keeping my face carefully blank.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," he replies angrily. "The last time you pulled that line, we had to rescue you from a volcano. And the time before that..." he stops abruptly. I can tell he thinks he's said too much.

"Are you referring to something the alternate version of me said?" I ask.

Consternation crosses Jim's face. "You know about him? He told me the universe would implode if you met!"

I raise my eyebrows. "Yes we met. He was the one who convinced me to not resign my Starfleet commission."

"That sneaky, lying Vulcan!" Jim exclaims.

 I raise my eyebrows at him. "What particular comment was this that I made?" I ask, abruptly changing the subject.

"Ah... I’ll tell you later," Jim murmurs. 

"I may as well go back outside, and watch the Doctor. We need to ask him about the orbit, after all," Chekov says, taking some kind of nonverbal hint.

"Don't ask him yet," Jim cautions. "Also, only if you won't freeze solid."

"I am Russian, Keptin."

"As you keep reminding us. Well, go on," Jim says.

Chekov salutes, and turns to walk out. I swear I see him wink at Jim. I raise my eyebrows at him as the door closes.

"Am I the only one who has no idea what was going on?" I accuse him softly.

Jim squirms. "Maybe."

I shake my head slightly. "Tell me about what my alternate self said," I say, changing the subject.

If at all possible, Jim looks even more uncomfortable. "He didn't say, not in so many words. But, when we mind melded... I saw a lot of stuff. Like... when his Enterprise encountered Khan." He looks deeply disturbed. "Spock... when the other Enterprise encountered Khan, he... you died. You ran into that radiation chamber, and saved the ship. The reason you sort of survived was you transferred your... it's called a katra, right? You transferred your katra to McCoy, and the Vulcan elders were able to piece your mind back together with your body, which was regenerated by this Genesis planet - a project that creates life from nothing. I knew I couldn't let that happen so I ran into that radiation chamber instead. Besides, I was closer this time."

"He did say the other Enterprise defeated Khan at a great cost..." I say, lost in thought. Then Jim's last few words register. "That was why you went and got yourself 'mostly killed?'"

Jim squirms anymore. "Partially," he mutters.

I stare at him. "Jim."

"No. Don't say anything. It's stupid, and I shouldn't have said that," he whispers. He looks utterly mortified.

Greatly daring, I face him, and press my lips to his in a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

Jim catches me, and winds his arms around me. "Don't do anything stupid like that," he whispers, his voice catching. He buries his head in my neck.

"We need to talk about this further," I whisper back. "Right now, we should concentrate on the people of Hoth."

"No. Don't you DARE say it." Jim admonishes me.

"Alright. I will not say it - but it is true, particularly right now."

"Just... give me a minute or two, ok? I've wanted to do this for a while," Jim murmurs, tightening his grip on me.

I wrap my arms around him in response. "As you said earlier - a few minutes will not make so much of a difference." I lay my chin on the top of his head, and close my eyes. We stand there for exactly 1.5 minutes. "Let's go talk to the Doctor," Jim says. I let go of him reluctantly, and start to grab my various layers. Jim pulls on his own jackets, then helps me pull on my last few layers. "Ready for those skates?" he asks, grinning maliciously.

I raise my eyebrows. "Define ready." I slide into the skates.

"Oh wait. Let me guess. Putting little metal blades on your feet is highly illogical?" Jim teases.

He may be teasing, but he is entirely correct. "Quite."

Jim smirks - that infuriating smile of his - and kisses me softly. "Shut up and put on the illogical metal pieces so we can go save this planet."

"When you put it that way." I strap the torture devices to my feet more securely.

Jim slides into his own skates easily, then double checks mine. "Do you not trust me?" I ask.

"Nope! But let's go," he says, opening the door of the TARDIS.

A blast of icy wind hits me, and I try to suppress the shudders I already feel. Jim takes my hand and squeezes it. "Sure you don't want me to go by myself?" he asks.

I step out the door, wobbling on my skates. "Please do not tempt me," I say dryly. Jim steps out behind me, and closes the door. Any illusion of warmth disappears. Then Jim grabs my hand again.

"Don't argue. We don't have time for your less-than-stellar skating skills," he says, seeing me about to speak up. He starts to skate off to the figures of River, the Doctor and Chekov in the distance.

This time, though, I don't feel like dead weight. I am actually able to add some speed, and propel myself. I leave the steering to Jim - I am still not close to that kind of skill level. The figures in the distance grow closer.

"DOCTOR!" Jim shouts.

The Doctor waves at us. "CAN I HELP YOU, CAPTAIN?!" he shouts back.

Jim puts on more speed. We're racing at breakneck pace. Right before I'm positive we will ram into the Doctor, Jim skids to a stop. Unfortunately, I still have momentum until Jim snaps our arms, and swings me around into him. I only avoid another acquaintance with the ice because Jim catches me. I distinctly hear Chekov snicker from behind us. Carefully, I disentangle myself from him.

"What you said earlier, about pulling Hoth back into it's orbit? Could you actually do that?" Jim asks, slightly breathless.

"What makes you think I could?" the Doctor asks.

"It only seems logical that you would only suggest it if you knew the feat could be accomplished," I say calmly.

The Doctor eyes us both. "The next question is: what makes you think I'm willing to help you?"

"Again, logic suggests that you would not have mentioned it if you were unwilling to offer aid if we were unable to do so ourselves."

"An answer for everything, I see," the Doctor says.

"Please, Doctor. Please help us. We really have no other way to help these people," Jim says softly.

"Well then! All you had to do was ask nicely!" the Doctor says cheerfully. "RIVER! We've got a planet to save!"

He leads us back inside the TARDIS. "Do you have the exact dimensions of the orbit calculated?" he asks. "I'm not a miracle worker, after all. I do need coordinates."

"Mr. Scott should be able to confirm my rough estimation," I say. I pull out my PADD, and pull up the system stats.  I sit there for 7.6 minutes, figuring out exactly how much the orbit has changed. Then I pull out my communicator. "Commander Spock to Enterprise Engine Room. Mr. Scott?" I say into it.

"Aye. Scotty here," he replies.

"I am sending you my rough estimate for the original orbit of Hoth," I say. "Will you verify my calculations?"

The communicator is silent for 3.6 minutes. "Looks fine Commander. Why do you need it?"

"It might be better to explain this fully later," I reply. Then I end the transmission.

"Alright Doctor. Where shall I input the equation?" I ask, standing up.

"Right in here," he says, pointing to a screen on the console. I begin to input the equation into the TARDIS system, verifying the equation every 25 seconds for accuracy. We only have one shot to get this right.

Jim comes to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder. "Got it all?" he asks softly. I nod slightly, not looking up. I'm still wobbly on the damned skates, but I need to finish my job before I can think about getting more comfortable. I also try (unsuccessfully) to block any thoughts of Jim from my mind. I need to focus, with no distractions. On the other hand, this is a very difficult goal to accomplish with Jim standing right behind me.

I finish inputting the data. "Double check for me, will you, Jim?" I ask.

"Of course," he replies, squeezing in next to me. I shift over a little to allow him a better view. Almost absently, he takes hold of my hand while checking. Fortunately, Chekov, River and the Doctor are all on the other side of the room, and our lower bodies and arms are hidden by the console. Jim is gently rubbing my hand with his, and it's all I can do to keep my normal straight face. When did Jim get so good at Vulcan kissing?

"Looks fine," Jim says finally, totally nonchalant.

"If it's all there, let's get started!" the Doctor exclaims. "You three are going to have to help me fly this old girl - it's a rather complicated job."

"I thought you said your people inwented physics?" Chekov says.

"Yes. The physics aren't complicated - its the piloting that is. See, the TARDIS is built for 6 pilots, not one."

"Or two," River adds, voice sweet, but very dangerous.

"Or two," the Doctor adds. "So, we need some help piloting."

"I can do zat! I can fly anything!" Chekov exclaims.

"Ditto," Jim says, reluctantly letting go of my hand.

"We should get this done and stop wasting time we do not have," I say.

"That's Spock for 'Sure let's go!'" Jim smirks.

"Fantastic!" the Doctor says. He positions us at different stations. I am instructed to pull a lever at a steady rate, and hold a second lever down. Chekov has a wheel to spin, and is put in charge of making sure the coordinates of the planet and my calculations match up. Jim has yet another set of levers to keep straight.

"Alright River. Whenever you're ready!" the Doctor says, holding onto a bar on the side of the console.

"Now then," River says. Then I hear that bizarre 'vwoorp vwoorp' sound I first heard before I rammed headlong into the TARDIS.

"GERONIMO!" the Doctor shouts, manning two stations at once.

"Engaging gravity lock!" River reports, watching another screen.

"Let me know when the numbers match up, Chekov," the Doctor says. "Begin pull!" I find myself wishing I could see it - the tiny blue box pulling the massive ice-planet through space. I also wish I could see the faces of the crew of the Enterprise. It must be an incredible, unbelievable sight. I doubt I would believe this if I was not living it right now.

"How close are we?" River asks.

"Wery close!" Chekov shouts. "Two seconds. One second! STOP! The numbers are lined up!" The TARDIS grinds to a stop.

"Alright then! Let's check to make sure everything is as it should be!" the Doctor says. He opens the door if the TARDIS.

The view is spectacular. We're suspended in space hanging over the planet. I can see the Enterprise in the distance, desperately gunning for the planet.

"Wow," Jim whispers from behind me. "I think this qualifies as an adequate demonstration, Doctor."

"Right-o! Let's get you back to your ship!" the Doctor exclaims. He moves back to the console. I carefully close the doors. The 'vwooro vwoorp' noise sounds again, as the Doctor races around, piloting the ship by himself. He rushes past me, and opens the door. "Home sweet home?" he asks.

We're back in the transporter room. Scotty is standing there with his mouth hanging open. Chekov bounces out of the TARDIS. Jim and I follow at a slightly more decorous pace.

"What...?" Scotty stutters.

"Long story! It will be so much easier to explain everything to everyone all at once," Jim says cheerfully. He turns and sticks his head into the TARDIS. "Thanks, Doctor!"

He closes the door behind him, and with another 'vwoorp vwoorp', the TARDIS disappears.

"Scotty. We need a meeting with Uhura, McCoy, and Sulu in the conference room. Chekov, that goes for you too. One hour - once the beta shift goes on. But for now... back to business as usual."

Jim winks at me and walks out of the room. Chekov bounces after him, likely back to the bridge.

"What happened down there?" Scotty asks me.

"You would not believe me if I told you," I say honestly. "I am still not sure I believe it myself." I too walk out of the room towards the bridge. It's just not the bit about the Doctor I'm not sure I believe.

*************

 

 


End file.
